


The Taste of Your Teeth

by OfficialAverageBiscuit



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AGAIN THESE TAGS ARE A MESS AND NOT IN ORDER, Aesthetic bullshit, Awkward Sexual Situations, Birth Ryo Characterization, Biting, But I cannot let go of crybaby Ryo's coat either, Drug Use, Face-Fucking, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, I cannot let go of him, I don't know how I forgot that, I'm sorry these tags are a mess, M/M, Many Illegal Things Happening, Me quietly, Misuse of expensive couches, NO DEVILMAN FORM SMUT, Oral Sex, Poetic Porn, Promises third chapter, Reminder again of my need for logic, Reminder of my need for lube and continuity in smut, Ryo acts ridiculously homosexual, Ryo is a sarcastic cunt, Ryo is a slut, Ryo is kind of edgy, Size Kink, Smut, Suffocation Kink, Teasing, Underage Drinking, because I can't fucking control myself, but you have to squint really hard, crybaby verse, dubcon if you squint hard as fuck, gratuitous kissing, if you squint really hard - Freeform, there i finishedddd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-22 07:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13759668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialAverageBiscuit/pseuds/OfficialAverageBiscuit
Summary: Akira Fudo was the single most inadmissibly oblivious and airheaded person Ryo had ever met. He had to have been. Unfortunately, he was simultaneously the only one Ryo had ever wanted.He opened the car delicately, with a certain je ne sais quoi grace about his fingers attributed only to the spoiled, aristocratic and reckless, or gay, of which Ryo hit all three marks with a somewhat bittersweet pride. He fell into the car perhaps a little more dramatically than he was even naturally, to glance smugly at the passenger he reluctantly admitted to himself he really wanted to impress.





	1. Red Lights, Cocaine, Murder and Your Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so fucking sorry for this.
> 
> tumblr; inadequate-lamb-gijinka 
> 
> twitter; ILG_Smile
> 
> I love you all.
> 
> {•▪☆EDIT: Kinda spaced this but as someone who does drugs, don't try to pull this shit. Chalk Ryo acting sober when he should be dead off to him being Satan. This doesn't work in real life, as someone who HAS had vodka and xans on his lips. It just sounds nice, don't be dumb.☆▪•}

 

While Ryo didn’t consider himself to be very complex, his logic was far from that of most people -- in fact, it seemed humanity thought him an obscurity in himself. 

 

People pointed him out on the streets and whispered about him, and he belonged nowhere. The boy with the clean cut meticulous blonde hair and curt and intelligent words contradicted himself, smoking a half assed joint and mumbling vulgarities in Kabukicho. 

 

That boy in the smoky, bastardized bar so adept at blowing cigarette smoke into a shot glass quickly enough to suck it against his lips and drink the smoke and vodka in one breath; he also turned down the greasy old tycoon with a doctorate’s vocabulary, smoothing down his immaculate white coat and leaving with every elegance of a person who hadn’t snorted cocaine out of a 10,000 yen bill just ten minutes earlier.

 

But Ryo ran his tongue over his teeth, flossed with the city, and he couldn’t understand he wouldn’t take these measures. He carefully stopped in the sidewalk, calmly allowing a rat to skitter by before he continued to the car he half expected to be stolen out of habit by the time he got back. Of course, it wasn’t, though.

 

Why not, if a person like him was surely bound to hell, would you not make life your own paradise? He did what he wanted and he was intelligent enough to get the means to have it not only accepted, but praised. He stepped carefully on the Kabukicho sidewalks, careful not to scuff his shoes. 

 

He opened the car delicately, with a certain  je ne sais quoi grace about his fingers attributed only to the spoiled, aristocratic and reckless, or gay, of which Ryo hit all three marks with a somewhat bittersweet pride. He fell into the car perhaps a little more dramatically than he was even naturally, to glance smugly at the passenger he reluctantly admitted to himself he really wanted to impress.

 

Akira rolled his eyes, but Ryo savored the little flustered jump in his adam’s apple. He flashed a little grin before starting the car, stifling his vague giddiness at still being able to create an aura of untouchable celebrity air around him before Akira. Even now, since he merged with Amon, Akira was an easily impressed, distractible person.

 

“Did you even get it or did you just party?” Akira sighed, and Ryo huffed through his nose.

 

“You can’t hide your geeky worry for me, Akira. Don’t sigh like you’re so cool.”

 

“I’m not the doctor and professor.”

 

“I said geek, not nerd.” He drew out the “shi” in “shikisha” and the “o” in “otaku” for some odd form of emphasis. The connection between the two sides of “otaku” made more sense for english speakers, but Akira sighed and smacked the car door anyways, pleasing Ryo a little.

 

“Did you get it?” Akira demanded again, and Ryo smiled, holding up a small necklace he had lifted from the tycoon’s pocket.

 

“Do you think you can save him?” Ryo murmured, and the air went from playful to cold quickly.

 

“To be honest?” Akira’s face drew grimly. “I don’t think so.”

 

Ryo pursed his lips in a silent agreement, unable to empathize with Akira’s compassion for the man and his daughter, and quickly pressed her necklace into Akira’s hand.

 

“A kiss for good luck?” he offered the movie trope as a weak joke.

 

“Shut up.” Akira smiled, the air restored.

 

Ryo glanced to him quickly with a bladed grin and started the car, pulling behind the building he had just exited.

 

Playing the waiting game while recording him wasn’t Ryo’s favorite thing at all. He crossed his feet and laid his cheek on his palm, lazily recording Akira shred the demon to pieces, bored at this point -- he had been unresponsive to the pleas in thought of his daughter. It was an expected outcome, but it still pained Ryo to see Akira affected by his loss in faith of humanity bit by bit every time they did this.

 

The demon gurgled and fell to the floor with a sickening, lard stifled thud, and Akira heaved, shaking with the adrenaline of the kill that disgusted him so.

 

“Good job.” Ryo called, a bit more non-committal than he meant. Akira shuddered, breathing deeply to cool himself back down into human form. Ryo quickly tossed him jeans, cold to the odd request Akira always demanded. Would it really be that odd for a very rich looking twink to leave the building with a sculpted twink whose clothing was in tatters? In this part of town?

 

Akira pulled on the jeans with a festering modesty and embarrassment anyways.

 

“I will never understand that odd, compelled need to be clothed all the time.” Ryo murmured.

 

Akira glanced up with surprise and offense. “I have not seen you naked in ten years, Ryo Asuka, and half the time you’re under that fucking marshmallow coat, you hypocrite.”

 

“Profanity is useless and unnecessary when you have a valid point--” Ryo quietly tucked away his camera into his very very expensive coat with a soft smile. “--which you do not. You haven’t seen me at all in ten years. I keep a submachine gun instead of a boxcutter, I do drugs, and I have no qualms about being nude.” his smile grew into a patronizing smirk as Akira groaned and rolled his eyes.

 

“Fuckin’ whatever,” he grumbled, smearing some gold blood away from his chest before pushing open the door. “Meh meh meh, I’m Ryo, ‘I have no qualms about being nude’-- shut the fuck up.”

 

“Compelling counterargument.” Ryo mocked, far more efficient and smooth in his sarcasm. “I’ll have to bring that up with the Prime Minister to put that on a plaque in his library.” he grinned, opening the car door for Akira, who begrudgingly got in with one last “oh, shut the fuck up”.

 

“I don’t know whether I like you more before or after Amon, but I’d have to go with on'nanifujiyu Akira if you keep telling me to shut up.” Ryo boldly proclaimed when he opened his door and climbed in, starting the car. Akira clicked his tongue, pushing his forehead into his palm.

 

“In all seriousness,” Ryo sighed, “You do seem more violent and stressed after a fight.”

 

“After a kill, Ryo.” Akira corrected him. “After I kill someone’s father. A little girl’s father. After I murder some little girl’s father and get excited about it, want to crush his skull underneath my hands, want to watch the blood seep from my fingers. After I revel in snapping his bones, while crying for the girl who inevitably has to go to his fuckin’ funeral and….” his eyes locked onto his clenched fist for a moment, still painted a faint gold, and Ryo swallowed hard in somewhere between morbid and shameful fascination and logical terror.

 

Akira looked at his hand for a moment, digging his nails into his palms, eyes wavering, and Ryo drove in uncomfortable silence.

 

After a long time, Akira muttered something weak, cleared his throat, and tried again. 

 

“I… crave this. And, and that’s Amon, and I… me, really me… I hate it. It’s killing me. I kill and everything...the symptoms get worse. I want everything more. It’s revolting.”

 

Ryo sighed. “Takeout?”

 

“Takeout.” Akira mumbled weakly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me kudos if you liked it, please, I beg you, I don't have motivation to live much less write about Satan getting ass fucked. I probably actually have more motivation for that.
> 
> Seriously, kudos and comments help. I'm dead fucking serious. Please comment. Especially comment. It doesn't have to be profound. Please? For me? Ya boi? 
> 
> Every time a soul bookmarks this fic a Ryo Asuka incarnation gets his tits.


	2. Burn my Throat, Choke my Lungs, Give me Your Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha ha.... ha ha.... well I finished the second chapter....
> 
> but it got too long....
> 
> so now there's a third [edit, no there's not]
> 
> #when will I ever finish a smut 2k18
> 
> Edit 2: for some reason when I wrote this I had a phone that autocorrected Makimura to Makikura but I'm leaving it because it's hilarious

“Aren’t the Makikuras going to be concerned with where you are?” Ryo really didn’t care, but he asked anyways, decisively stabbing broccoli.

 

Akira looked up with wide, childish eyes that couldn’t be stifled by Amon; Ryo nearly smiled at the sudden nostalgia and endearing qualities Akira gave to the air. He blinked at Ryo, chewed, and swallowed what was for all purposes an entire container of chow mein.

 

“I guess, but Miki can always call me. I can kinda take care of myself, you know.”

 

“No you can’t.” Ryo’s smile broke loose knowing that the trust the Makikuras gave Akira was more based on his own supervision of him. Akira clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at the timing of it.

 

“You don’t think they trust me not to die?”

 

“Not in the slightest.” Ryo affirmed, grinning now.

 

“Why’s that?” Akira leaned towards Ryo with a comedic threat in his voice.

 

“Because--” Ryo leaned forward himself, smiling with a libidinous flare that far outweighed Akira’s threatening furrow to his brow. “--You’re a sixteen year old boy that can’t stop talking, has a boner half the time, and would eat anthrax if it were served in a 7/11 package. Anyone could kill you, Akira.”

 

Despite the subject matter, Akira swallowed hard and turned his eyes away, affected how most people were by Ryo, who’s eyes ghosted him for his reaction.

 

Ryo ever so carefully placed his hand on Akira’s chest, in a movement just sleight enough to appear as to steady himself. Akira wasn’t fooled, though Ryo kept up the act anyways.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re flustered by me?”

 

“You’re being weird.”

 

“I like seeing you react.”

 

“Well, stop it.”

 

“That’s not exactly a discouragement in context, and you didn’t answer my question.”

 

“Just! You’re being weird, okay!” Akira sighed, quickly running his hand over his mouth in frustration.

 

Ryo grinned, knowing full well a good friend would stop here. Luckily, Ryo was not a good person, much less a good friend.

 

“What about it is weird?” he asked, halfway earnest. He licked his lips, satisfied with the choked cough it caused in Akira. “Would it be that odd?” he left the subject hanging, open ended but blaringly clear. Akira cleared his throat, staring at his knuckles. Ryo leaned forwards further, pulling his legs up onto the couch, anticipating how close he was to finally ensnaring Akira as his own, precious, adorable, delectable Akira, so close to just breaking down.

 

“You’re my best friend. It’s weird.”

 

Of all the protests, Ryo had not expected that. It took him aback a bit, startling the debauched color from his pigment heavy lips for just a moment. He tapped Akira’s jawline softly, and surprisingly Akira took the signal to look at him willingly.

 

“So it’s not because I’m a guy.” Ryo smiled, thoroughly entertained.

 

“No….”

 

“Or because I’m ugly.”

 

“N-no, of course not!”

 

“Or because you don’t like me.”

 

“That’s--”

 

“--Akira,” Ryo cooed, smiling genuinely now. “Never lose this. Never stop being stupid and childish and flustered, alright?”

 

Akira stared for a moment. “That’s really gay.”

 

“I’m really gay.” Ryo laughed. “I thought I’d be more open about liking you because of the subject matter. Are you intimidated by me expressing your endearing qualities? It’s not because I’m a guy, we got that out of the way.”

 

“Don’t use big words when you’ve still fuckin’ got vodka and xans on your lips.” Akira grumbled, avoiding the topic.

 

“Akira, do you want me?”

Akira stayed silent, clenching his jaw and looking directly in front of him.

 

“Wrong answer.” Ryo smiled, moving to straddle Akira, who promptly shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

 

“You’re not protesting any of this, let me remind you.”

 

Akira sighed heavily, pursing his lips while focusing intently on one of the plants decorating the room. Ryo lowered his head to try to meet Akira’s eyes, who was currently running his tongue over his teeth in an attempt to stifle a reaction to Ryo gliding his hips against his.

 

Slowly, Akira’s hands raised to Ryo’s hips, shakingly slightly. Ryo took a quiet note of the black opaque streaks running down Akira’s fingers.

 

“Akira, yes or no?” Ryo smiled softly.

 

“It’s not that simple.” Akira finally muttered.

 

“Why not?” Ryo grinned, but Akira gave him a quick, sharp glare.

 

“I can’t hurt you.”

 

Ryo was a little bit startled by this-- of all the reasons to protest.

 

“You won’t.” his smile softened a little.

 

Akira glared again, clearly irritated with Ryo’s intentional ignoring of his physicality.  Ryo ran his tongue over his teeth, moving his hand softly to Akira’s face.

 

“I’ve wanted this for a while.”

 

Akira, precious, wild eyed, boisterously innocent Akira blushed. Ryo laughed softly, high and cold and more through his nose than anything. He carefully, methodically moved his lips to Akira’s ear, softly biting at the ridge.

 

“Please?” he breathed.

 

Akira heaved against him quickly, and Ryo laughed at his slight bounce against the Le Corbusier couch. “No control. That’s not all Amon, is it?” he mumbled as Akira roughly moved to rut against his thigh.

 

Ryo’s laughs turned to stifled moans, gripping the dark leather as Akira’s thigh unintentionally moved against him, his mouth ghosting over his neck. Ryo shivered, heat running through him as Akira’s teeth lightly dragged over his skin and their arousal met.

 

“Akira. Akira. Hold on. Akira.” Ryo’s hands moved over Akira’s back intending to slap him to get his attention, but ended up gripping his shirt as Akira rutted into him, mindless need making the teeth against his neck rougher and rougher.

 

“Akira, the bed. The-”

 

And Akira lifted him up, roughly kissing him and directing him to the nearest wall. Soft, heated moans escaped Ryo, leaning into Akira’s rough, reckless thrusts.

 

“Akira the bed.” he moaned, losing his grip on any sense of rationality or authority. Akira’s grip dug fiercely into his hips, and Ryo sputtered, tilting his head away. He wondered if Akira was still even lucid; If he was, how long would that last?

 

Akira’s lips moved to Ryo’s collarbone with a softness that gave him his answer. Ryo breathed heavily as Akira slowly moved them towards his room. He was lucid, just stubborn.

 

Ryo sighed as Akira fumbled to open his door and throw him on his bed, marking him haphazardly with kisses and increasingly rough bites. Ryo struggled, still trying and failing to control his face. Akira’s hands moved roughly under his shirt, and Ryo moaned softly as he pushed away from Akira’s harsh kisses.

 

“Akira, let me….” his hands fumbled at Akira’s jeans as he swallowed unfamiliar awkwardness, pushing softly back at Akira to sit them both up.

 

He bit back heat flooding to his cheeks, frowning softly at the fumble and hesitancy in his hands. Akira’s breath hitched, a beautiful sound, as Ryo freed his unruly arousal.

 

He raised his eyes quickly to Akira, blue burning into amber burning back into blue. Akira's eyes wavered with an unnamed, raw, oily animalism. It ate away at Ryo and his pupils expanded. He moved forward, pressing his lips hard and rough to Akira's, drifting his fingers teasingly over Akira's stomach. His fingers were waify, pale on Akira, who's hips bucked weakly in impatience.

 

Ryo breathed in shakingly, pulling Akira's shirt off with the deftness and grace he had trained his fingers to have carefully. He wondered airily if he had become this way for Akira as his thoughts drifted away in the taste of Akira's neck and collarbone under his tongue.

 

He was far more lucid, far more calm than Ryo had expected, wavering in will but still under Ryo’s wary and delicate kisses down his stomach. His lips were wet and soft over Akira's toned flesh, and Ryo wouldn't deny the muscles that came with Amon excited him.

 

His hands fell to Akira's hips, who was quickly losing his composure. Not only fused with a demon, but a virgin 16 year old boy. Ryo nearly laughed.

 

He simply smiled and raised his eyes with debauched danger to Akira, the corner of his lips resting tantalizingly over Akira's tip. A shiver ran down Akira's spine and he swallowed the agony of the waiting.

 

Ryo didn't bother with modesty or more teasing, he knew he didn't have much longer until Akira lost control. Decadence was never an option, meaning was a faraway and laughable dream.

 

Akira's eyes widened and he groaned gutterally as Ryo licked a stripe over Akira's shaft, curling his tongue over the tip and softly sucking down on the glans. That would do. He cautiously, slowly moved his lips down, emerging Akira in the heat of his mouth, not bothering to move his tongue.

 

Akira gripped his hair as expected, shuddering and sighing. Precum seeped relentlessly into Ryo’s mouth, who for the first time-- probably far too late-- considered the sheer amount Akira would cum.

 

Akira moaned as Ryo pulled away, swirling his tongue over Akira's heat as he moved.

 

“You can fuck my mouth" Ryo murmured, hardly more than a whisper. Akira thought that couldn't possibly be right and that that would have to hurt Ryo, but the lewd strawberry tinge on his lips and the look in his eyes blew away all reason.

 

He drowned in the heat and softness and wetness of Ryo again, moaning low and gravely and loud as he rutted into Ryo’s mouth. Tears bit at the corners of Ryo’s eyes, but the stifling lack of air and the intoxicated dizziness turned him on. Not like it was the worst thing he's been through, no where close. Akira's heat pushing into his throat, Akira's fingers gripped onto his hair, Akira's scent filling his thoughts.

 

His thrusts picked up, and Ryo let stifled moans escaped him, morbidly fascinated by his newfound kink. Akira began to growl, thrusting hard and fast, and Ryo gasped through his nose, the tinges of blood rising to his tongue and throat.

 

Anyone else would be disgusted and scared.

 

Akira came loud, hard, and a lot, and Ryo shouldn’t have been surprised. He was oddly turned on by Akira pushing Ryo forwards, cumming into the back of his throat hard. At a certain point Akira regained his sense and pulled away, blinking the white from his vision.

 

“I am so, so sorry.” Akira whispered, covering his face with his hands.

 

Ryo was still shaking a little from having an inhuman amount of semen poured down his throat, reasonably so, but he was tired of this. Akira always did this. He was annoyed with him, he hated that.

 

“Stop fucking apologizing and fuck me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That annoying Please give me feedback it makes my nipples hard thing goes for this chapter too ya shit.
> 
> Just kidding, I love you, please give me comments.
> 
> Every comment, a devilman gets their first line of coke and a single testicle of a random man smacked on their face at Sabbath. If you share it, it's Ryo.

**Author's Note:**

> OOF WANNA BE IN A DANKASS DISCORD?
> 
> https://discord.gg/aywzBYJ


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